


she knows so many pretty boys

by spaceboy_niko



Series: he likes my taste (he likes my waist) [6]
Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Corsetry, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Multi, Romance, bring your kink to work day, of the gross at-work pda kind, ot5 development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 07:13:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17741306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceboy_niko/pseuds/spaceboy_niko
Summary: “Have you ever thought about wearing your corset to work?” Hayley asks, taking another sip of her wine.“No,” Barry answers, “but now I am. Why do you want me to think about this?”“You should wear your corset to work,” she clarifies. “It’d be fun.”“This sounds like you’re setting me up for a bad porno situation, and I want you to know straight away that I don’t like it.”





	she knows so many pretty boys

Along with Mike, Hayley is probably the most likely to blame for Barry's femininity, in the best possible way.

Every so often, on a Saturday night, she'll drag Barry out of his house to hers, and she'll practice doing his makeup and it always turns out better than he or Mike ever could manage, and they complain about boys and their jobs, and she’ll laugh at him, because he actually rather likes his job and his only complaint about the guys is that he gets fucked _too_ much and his arse needs a break, which Hayley thinks is _such_ a major problem for him, complete with eye-roll dripping in mockery.

And they drink and watch whatever she’s watching on Netflix and Barry pretends he’s up to date with the plot, and it’s then that Hayley has an Idea -- the way she asks tells Barry that it’s an idea worthy of a capital _I_ in his head.

“Have you ever thought about wearing your corset to work?” she asks, taking another sip of her wine.

“No,” Barry answers, “but now I am. Why do you want me to think about this?”

“You should wear your corset to work,” she clarifies. “It’d be fun.”

“You have a horrible definition of fun. This sounds like you’re setting me up for a bad porno situation, and I want you to know straight away that I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, you do,” she grins, poking him in the side. “You would one _hundred_ percent let James nail you in the studio bathroom.”

“That’s beside the point! And I have better taste in porn than that!” She’s not wrong, and Barry feels like he can’t win this argument after a solid fact like that. It _would_ be fun, but he’s not ready to admit to her that the idea of James or Mike or even Ben fucking him at work is pretty damn hot, despite it being a horrible cliche he does _not_ want to be a part of.

“Sure you do. I’ll even help you into it, Barry, come on! Let me live vicariously through your sex life, please?”

Barry wrinkles his forehead. “I don’t know what vicariously means when I’m sober, Hayley, but it’s a maybe.”

“Only maybe?” Hayley laughs.

“Maaaaaaybe,” he repeats, giggling and trying not to spill his glass of red wine on Hayley’s couch as she pokes his side again.

He stays the night – it’s too late for them to bother driving him home, and Barry was drunk a glass and a bit ago –  and crashes on the couch, and by the time Monday morning rolls around, he begrudgingly opens his own door for Hayley and lets her lace him into his white corset.

“I thought you could get into this thing on your own?” she asks, tightening it slowly and carefully like Barry always asks.

“Not this one. You think I can dislocate my shoulders enough to reach? Besides,” he says, raising an eyebrow and grinning at her in the mirror, “I like the attention.”

“Course you do,” she says, rolling her eyes as she ties it off.

Barry notices his jeans sit differently on his hips today, and his shirt almost looks like it fits him better as he tucks it in, but at a glance he just looks like– well, like Barry. The guys probably won’t notice, but he’s interested to find out how quickly they’ll discover his little secret.

He doesn’t drive into work today, instead gets Hayley to drop him off at the studio slightly more on time than normal, and he’s greeted the usual chorus of _good morning_ s as he walks past everyone to his desk.

* * *

Jamie is, somewhat surprisingly, the first to put two and two together.

Barry notices Jamie glancing over at him out of the corner of his eye, over the rim of his coffee cup, as he spins around in his desk chair to ask James a question.

Jamie’s eyes stay on him as he finishes his cup and stands up.

“Anyone else for tea, coffee?”

“Tea, thanks, mate,” Jamie says, flicking his phone off and passing his mug up to Barry as he walks past his desk to the kettle.

Barry hears his phone chime from across the office, and he curses himself for not putting it on silent when he arrived, so he wanders back to his desk while the kettle boils.

It’s a text from Jamie, and he’s about to turn and ask Jamie why he didn’t just talk to him while he was at his desk, but then he reads it and shuts himself up.

 

_Are you by any chance wearing a corset today?_

 

Barry sets his phone to vibrate and replies _maybe_ , sliding it into his pocket as he goes in search of teabags.

As he rinses out his cup, he watches Jamie idly pick up his phone again, like he and Barry aren’t having a clandestine conversation.

 

_Does that maybe mean yes?_

 

Barry carries on making tea, dragging the process out a bit longer than he normally would just to keep Jamie in suspense, taking his time with the milk and sugar, and when he gets back to their desks Jamie raises an eyebrow questioningly, and Barry nods, almost imperceptibly, handing him his tea and praying to God he doesn’t drop it.

Barry hears Jamie breathe out a soft _oh_ , and grins as he kisses a just-arrived Mike on the head and takes a sip of his tea.

 

_how’d you know?_

 

Jamie doesn’t answer the message right away, but when Barry heads into the kitchen to photograph one of the recipes for the website, he feels his phone buzz several times in very quick succession.

 

_Something a little different about you today_

_Good different, don’t worry_

_You’re carrying yourself differently if that makes sense?_

_You walk with a swing in your hips in that thing_

_I bet you don’t even know you’re doing that_

_You normally only do that when you’re trying really hard_

_Also you’re sitting up way straighter than normal, which should be a dead giveaway for the others_

_And you stand up from your chair gracefully_

_I don’t know if gracefully is the word I mean but you know_

_It looks more fluid_

_I feel like a Victorian gentleman trying not to eye you up in front of your father_

_You’re really pretty today_

 

Barry can’t help but smile at his phone as he reads, and it buzzes one more time.

 

_I like it_

 

He looks over at Jamie, fighting back the blush creeping up his face, and Jamie winks.

 

_so how long do you reckon it’ll take the others to notice?_

 

Jamie’s typing bubble is on his screen for a long while, as if he’s deleting and re-typing and deleting the message again.

 

_Ben’ll notice first if he hasn’t already_

_Then James, although to be fair he’s smitten with you enough he could very well think you’re just being you_

_Mike will notice either if he takes you home and undresses you himself or if we tell him in the pub three weeks from now_

 

Barry snickers, because he’s right about Mike – for the guy who taught him everything he knows about corsetry, Mike is really imperceptive.

Mike wouldn’t know if Barry was wearing a corset unless he laced him into it himself.

* * *

Ben finds out next and, in not-at-all-typical Ben fashion, does so completely by accident.

Barry is helping out in the kitchen, just being another pair of hands for Ben while he troubleshoots another recipe. It’s something like the third time it’s gone wrong today – a mix of distractions, inaccurate cooking times and fickle ingredients – and Ben, being Ben, told James he should go get lunch and take a break for a bit, leaving him to internally panic on his own. Barry offered to help when Ben realised he needed to be tempering chocolate and making a crème pât at the same time.

Barry is melting down a batch of white chocolate in a bain-marie when Ben gently grabs him around the waist with a “‘scuse me, Baz,” and shuffles him away from the oven door, trying to keep him out of the way of the heat but still within reach of the bowl on the stove.

He keeps a hand on the small of Barry’s back as he pulls a tray out, looks at the cakes on it, and breathes out heavily.

“Thank fuck,” he sighs as he straightens up, then frowns, rubbing Barry’s back again.

“Barry,” he begins in the most delicately Ben way possible, lowering his voice – he doesn’t have to, there’s no one else around, but he does anyway – “correct me if I’m wrong, but are you wearing a corset right now?”

“Yep,” Barry replies nonchalantly, chasing a lump of white chocolate around the bowl and reaching for the temperature probe.

“Which one?” Ben asks, even quieter.

“Untuck my shirt and have a look,” Barry answers, still stirring. “Afraid I can’t help you out with that. This recipe doesn’t need caramelised white chocolate, does it?”

“Teasing little bastard,” Ben mutters, reaching for Barry’s belt.

Barry angles his hips away from the stovetop so Ben can carefully untuck his shirt from his jeans. He grins as Ben audibly sucks in a breath at the sight of the pearlescent white fabric.

“Who else knows about this?” Ben asks, running his fingers over the tiny bit he’s exposed as if he’s seeing it for the first time. “I mean, you can’t get into this on your own, did Mike help you out?”

Barry shakes his head. “Hayley helped me. Jamie noticed before you did, though. I think your chocolate’s up to temperature.”

Ben grabs a dishcloth and lifts the bowl off the steam, plunging it into the bowl of iced water on the counter next to him and stirring quickly.

“Can’t believe you’ve got the guts to wear it to work,” he says, shaking his head and laughing. “And I can’t believe I didn’t notice! How did _Jamie_ pick up on this before me?”

“At least you figured it out before Mike,” Barry points out.

“True,” Ben says, scraping chocolate down the sides of the bowl and placing it back over the simmering water. “Guess I’m not your worst boyfriend.”

Barry is not expecting Ben to use the word _boyfriend_ so lightly, because he’s been treading carefully around it for ages, all of them have, but it sounds...nice coming from Ben, almost homey, like it’s meant to be said by him.

He’s still in shock when Ben leans up and pecks him on the jawbone before taking his tempered chocolate over to his cooled cakes.

“Can you start tempering some milk chocolate for me, darling? We’ll try out a few things and see what works.”

The pet name doesn’t usually bring up a lump in his throat, and it takes Barry a minute to regain enough control of his hands to find another bowl and begin snapping chocolate into it.

* * *

Barry texts James to ask him where he is for lunch and whether he’d mind company. James doesn’t mind, as Barry has come to expect, and gives him the name of a fairly hole-in-the-wall Turkish place they’ve only just discovered, a short walk from their studio.

 

_i’ll even order for you, if you want_

_i think i know your tongue by now :P_

 

Barry arrives at the table about the same time as his food does, a piping hot gozleme with spinach and oozing with melty feta and goat’s cheese. He silently thanks God for bringing a man like James into his life, and thanks James with a cold kiss on the cheek for bringing his lunch into his life.

“I would’ve started heading back to the office if you hadn’t texted,” James says in lieu of a greeting. “Sorry I didn’t wait to eat with you, but I was halfway through when you asked where I was and you know these are way better warm.”

Lunch is good– lunch is better than good, he’s got goat’s cheese and James within arm’s reach, and it’s a welcome distraction from Ben’s experimentation.

They walk back to the studio, hand in cold hand, James pulling Barry in close when a gust of wind makes him shiver.

“You should’ve worn a thicker jacket this morning,” James chides, trading his jacket for Barry’s scarf.

“But now you’ll be cold,” Barry protests, trying to shrug James’ jacket off, but James holds it in place.

“Office is warm, and I can always use you as a hot water bottle, if you warm up enough when we’re in there.”

“Okay,” Barry concedes, and James ruffles his hair as he pulls the jackets tighter around him.

So Barry sets his tablet up on James’ desk, just out of the way of his keyboard, and sits in James’ lap and answers his emails, while James writes up recipes for the website. It’s probably not the most ideal office conditions, but hey, at least James is warm and Barry is getting affection.

James shifts in his seat and Barry starts to slide off his lap, and James catches him with an arm around his hips, pulling him back in close and sitting himself back into their now-shared chair.

James squeezes him a little tighter, muscles in his forearm tensing around Barry’s waist. Barry can practically feel James’ facial expression change – James is no stranger to acting as Barry’s human seatbelt, and the corset means there’s less Barry to hold onto.

His breath is warm on Barry’s ear as he whispers, “You’re wearing your corset, aren’t you?”

James presses his nose into Barry’s neck, and Barry breathes out, “Yeah,” just a bit louder than he wants to in the quiet space.

“James, if you’re going to bang Barry at work, there’s plenty of room in the bathroom, where we all don’t have to hear it,” Jamie says, and Barry can hear the eye-roll in his voice.

“Oh, fuck, yes, James, right there, god,” Barry says in a loud monotone, and Mike snickers as Jamie throws a crumpled-up sticky note at them.

“Seriously, though, that’s kinda hot, babe,” James says just as quietly as before, totally ignoring Jamie. “I like it a lot.”

Barry shivers in James’ lap, not from the cold anymore, and James laughs, resting his chin on Barry’s shoulder and saving his work.

“James, I can fire you for inappropriate workplace behaviour,” Jamie says as a joking warning.

Barry re-settles himself on James’ lap. “I'll be sure to tell you if he's up to any funny business, J.”

“Stop moving, you’ll fall off again,” James says in a tone of voice that makes him sound irritated, but Barry knows he isn’t really mad at him at all.

“Office chairs weren’t designed for two people, _James_.”

“This was your idea, _Barry_.”

* * *

“Anyone willing to give me a lift home?” Barry asks the office at large. “Hayley’s working later than I am today.”

“You could catch the tube like one of us plebs,” Ben offers.

“Bloody freezing out there, innit? Ask James, he practically had to mummify me in jackets to get me home from lunch without frostbite.”

“Pussy,” Jamie laughs.

“I’ll drive you, Baz, because I love you, unlike these other pricks,” Mike says.

“Thanks, love.” Barry stretches, reaching up and back towards Mike, making grabby hands until Mike comes and leans on him, interlacing their fingers together and resting his chin on Barry's forehead.

James makes an exaggerated gagging noise, and Mike bends down and licks Barry's face, and it's Barry's turn to start fake retching.

“Go do your work, you animal. Ben, can we take away his pay for licking me?”

Mike pulls a face of utter sadness, and Barry leans up and kisses him, licking him back on the cheek as he pulls away.

“Now we're square,” he laughs as Mike hightails it back to his desk.

Barry doesn't have much else to do, so he makes another cup of tea and fucks around with some thumbnails they don't need yet while he waits for Mike.

He barely manages to save his work before his chair is yanked backwards and Mike hoists him up, halfway between a hug and a fireman's lift, and Barry protests in gibberish, clinging on for dear life while Mike shuts down his computer for him.

“Let's go, babe,” Mike says, adjusting his grip on a sliding Barry.

Barry's shirt comes out from his jeans and rides up, and everyone in the office holds their breath as Mike stares at Barry's waist.

“Barry James Taylor,” he says, and Barry feels alarmingly like he’s being told off at school again, “have you been wearing a fucking corset at _work_ all day?”

Mike doesn't bother for any kind of tact – they've all seen it now, there's no need – and Barry sighs.

“Put me down, Mike?” Barry kicks half-heartedly and Mike sets him down, keeping one hand on his waist to steady him and pulling his shirt up with the other.

“Did the rest of you know about this?” Mike asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” Ben says.

“You're just an idiot,” Jamie adds.

Mike doesn't respond, and Barry can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“So that's why James looked like he was about to fuck you at his desk,” he finally says.

James flushes up to his ears and laughs.

“Not a bad idea, though,” Mike continues cheekily, pulling Barry in by his shirt.

“No, no, no, get out, go home before you fuck at work!” Ben exclaims, shoving them towards the door. “The poor cleaners do not need that in their lives!”

They make it out the door and into Mike's car as quickly as possible, and Mike's hands are back on him as soon as the doors are shut.

“It was Hayley's idea,” Barry mumbles.

“Bloody beat me to it, didn't she?” Mike says, but he sounds distracted as he rucks up Barry's shirt. “If I knew, I would've stolen you away for a quickie in the bathroom.”

Barry bats his hands away. “Stop it, you. Take me home before you try any of that.”

Mike smirks and starts the car.

“Actually,” Barry asks tentatively as they near his house, “can you undo me when I get home? I've been wanting to crack my back for _hours_ and I haven’t figured out how to do that in this thing.”

Mike laughs, bewildered yet understanding. “Sure?”

Barry unlocks his door a bit faster than necessary and Mike's stripping him down in seconds in the middle of his living room, unlacing him at the back and popping the clasps of the busk. It's an exhilarating feeling for Barry – the sudden rush in the air he can breathe in, the ability to twist his back, just a little further–

Mike winces at the pops from Barry's spine, but it _feels_ as good as it sounds, and Barry collapses onto his couch facedown with a half-sigh, half-moan.

“I _think_ I just came,” Barry announces, muffled in the cushions. “Spiritually, at least.”

“And on that note, I'm leaving. See you at work tomorrow. I'll let myself out. Oh, and Baz?”

Barry looks up towards his doorway.

“Whenever you decide to wear a corset into work again, tell me, you bell-end.”

Barry shoots him a thumbs-up and rolls over, searching for his phone where he's almost definitely lying on it.

“Hayley,” he says when she picks up, “that wasn’t your worst idea ever.”

“You’re welcome,” she says smugly. “It’s gonna happen again, right?”

“I mean, yeah. Maybe I’ll stick around after hours and let James properly fuck me on his desk. And don’t even _think_ about the kitchen,” he adds, hearing Hayley begin to talk excitedly. “Ben would throw a fit.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is the only sfw instalment of the corsetverse and even then i wouldnt call it sfw. dont read it at work just in case. idk.
> 
> thanks to the sorted discord for encouraging me with this tomfoolery and for being like the best ideas gang on the planet
> 
> title is from she's a genius by jet. i have sunk to the depths of classic aussie pub bangers as fic titles.


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